


Skyrim: 8 Sins of the Dragonborn

by ZetaStars



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Amnesia, Betrayal, Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), F/F, F/M, M/M, Magic, Multi, Other, Seven Deadly Sins, Swords & Sorcery, Violence, Virtual Reality, War, self finding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 00:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10842564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZetaStars/pseuds/ZetaStars
Summary: Xela woke up lost and confused, not knowing who she was. As stakes run high all across Skyrim's land, she finds herself in the middle of a war with no option but to help. Further putting off her quest in finding out who she is and how she came to be lost with no memories of her own.





	Skyrim: 8 Sins of the Dragonborn

**Author's Note:**

> So, after some absences and the deletion of my prior and more ill-literate works, I'm back and writing a new story with my own voice regarding a character I am currently running through Skyrim. I hope you all like it as much as I enjoy writing it so that we all can experience this wonderful adventure together! :D

It was dark. It was cold and only growing colder. Stars faintly lit up the night sky, thwarted by the beautiful dance of an aurora-borealis. A very light cloud cover felled a soft snow upon Nirn, blanketing the tough terrain in a thin sheet of white.

A city, hidden behind high walls and lined with guards loomed in the distance. A festival seemed to be taking place. Laughter and merriment could be heard echoing through the open fields surrounding the enclosed town. The sky was lit up with the light of roaring fires, trails of smoke billowing into the air. It was one of the few times the city's patrons stood together as one instead of fighting amongst themselves.

It was from this beautiful and quaint city that a hunter and his bodyguard were just making their way from the city. A prosperous haul made the hearty Nord laugh as he bounced his newly acquired full coin purse from hand to hand.

"Ah, a wonderful haul that was! I am grateful you talked me into coming!" The hunter gave a joyous smack to the man donning heavy steel armor beside him.

The Nord didn't wait for a response as he hoisted himself up onto a sturdy beast of a horse. Its rippling chest and slender legs contradicting its very purpose in the lands of Skyrim. Despite its feminine looks, the stallion was the fastest and the wisest steed the hunter could ever happen upon.

With a short snap of the reigns and a light tap to the horse's flank, the wheat-colored horse started down the cobbles that made up most of Skyrim's roads. Beside him, the hunter's companion rode a thicker and larger stallion, its black and white hide a beauty to behold.

"I wish that I had been more convincing to stay until morning," the man said, shifting uncomfortably in his armor.

"Nonsense! We must ride the night if we wish to make it to Riften!"

"Riften? That city of thievery and squalor! I didn't think you were serious! Why, you couldn't trust a fellow Nord in that place as much as leaving a Necromancer alone in a graveyard!"

"Haha! That may be so, my friend. But there is a jeweler there, or so I hear, that makes top of the line jewelry and crafts! They're traditional!" The hunter laughed, his breath coming out in a puff of white.

"'Traditional' the man says. What could you possibly want with jewelry?" The man asked, turning his visored gaze to the man who, more than he could count, had fed him with the fine game he had hunted.

"That is something you'll have to see for yourself!" Without giving much more of an explanation, the hunter kicked his horse's flank again, sending him off into a trot.

Grumbling, the armored companion followed suit. His own horse didn't seem to mind the weight; after all, it was bred for such endeavors- traversing along Skyrim loaded down with supplies. It took much more gold than he'd like to admit for the previous owner to give him up. In the end, he walked away with a powerful horse while the stable master was left several pounds of coin richer.

They trudged along in silence from there-on out. Huddled in their saddles against the bitter winds and biting cold that brought with it a heavier snowfall. They followed signs that would eventually lead them to Riften's front gate and the infamous city the hunter was so keen upon.

Into the whee hours of the night, when not even the bravest of travelers would roam in fears of nightly things snatching them up in the dark, the pair came to an abrupt halt. Their horses whinnied fiercely, kicking up snow and flailing their heads about. The hunter's horse, usually as calm as a springs lake in the dead of summer, was frantic the most. It backed away, lashing its tail back and forth from an almost unidentifiable lump laying in the middle of the road.

"Whoa, whoa! Stop it!" The hunter snapped as he gripped tightly to his steed's reigns, desperate to bring the beast to a stop.

With no warning at all, both of the companions were launched from their mounts which galloped into the wilderness, snorting and neighing with frustration and fear. The hunter and his guard groaned as they stood to their feet, covered in fresh snow from head to toe.

"What in the name of the gods are they all worked up about?" The bodyguard asked, frowning behind his helm as he checked the sheath that held his greatsword.

When he was met with silence, he frowned more and squint his eyes in the dark. He guffawed and gave a yell of surprise when a torch suddenly lit out of nowhere, his friend crouched in the snow.

"I say, are you mad? Put that out! What are you doing? Spiders and their masters roam these parts!" He growled and when the man refused to answer, he sniffed and stamped over to his friend in rising anger. "Hey! Did you hear me? We need to find our horses and-"

"Shh! You are so worried about drawing attention to ourselves, you're the only one who is letting everyone from here to Black Marsh know where we are! Look here; there's someone in the road."

"There's _always_ someone in the road. The fool was probably out in the dark like we are, practically defenseless!" He seethed, eyes narrowing as he debated to start dragging the man with him.

"No, no. My friend. Wait, please. They are still breathing! Help me!" He called out in alarm as he stabbed the torch into the frozen ground beside the body. With the help of both, they brushed off the snow and pulled the weary traveler onto their back.

They were immediately met with a beautiful face, barely covered by a mask ripped to shreds. Soft and light pink lips lay relaxed upon the milky white face of a beautiful young woman. Her dark lashes long upon a set of closed eyes. She had angular features nearly mistakable for that of an elf but her true nature failed to hide behind her mischievous appearance.

"It's an Imperial! Leave her!" The armored companion sneered as he pushed himself up from the snow, clapping his hands to his armored thighs.

The hunter considered his companion's advice for a moment, before looking back to the woman that lay silent and still on the road. He looked her over and a small frown plastered on his face.

"She isn't bleeding anywhere. I can't find a wound or any signs of a struggle," he said thoughtfully, clearly baffled.

Perplexed, his friend grumbled and threw his arms up slightly before he grabbed the mans shoulder. "it's probably a trap! Have you thought of that? A beautiful woman just laying in all that snow!"

"Think about what you just said, my friend. You have felt her. She is as cold as ice! We must take her back to Whiterun."

"Take her back?! Have you contracted brain rot while I wasn't looking? Whiterun is nearly half a day's journey from here!" The man snapped, glowering hard at his friend now.

"I am taking her back with or without you, Dremund. I will pay you for your services as though you were with me this next weeks coming," the hunter said rather coldly as he started digging around for his recently acquired coin purse.

"Balkir... We have been through too much just for you to pay me off," the knightly companion stated, hurt with his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Then help me mount her up onto one of the horses." As usual, without waiting for a response, Balkir made a move towards the woman and carefully hauled her up against his body.

"Uh. Pardon me, Balkir. But you seem to be forgetting something, my friend. Our horses took off." It took a moment for the hunter to realize this and he slowly set the woman back in the snow. He glanced back to where they had fallen, his eyes going wide.

"By the gods!!" He yelled, stomping his foot into the snow like a child. "Well, go find them!"

Dremund watched his friend in disbelief before he shook his head, giving a heavy sigh. He carefully slipped off one of his armored gloves and held two fingers to his lips, giving a sharp blow, a high pitch sound that tore through the blistering winds.

Balkir looked around skeptical and shook his head. No horse, especially one that cowardly, would return to its master after deliberately throwing them off. He glanced back to the girl then and signed, debating whether he should leave her there after all. It wouldn't be a lie if he told the guards they stumbled across her dead body. She would freeze to death by the time they arrived at the next time. But it would do little for his conscience, regardless of her birthright.

"Balkir. Are you done daydreaming or are you going to help me with your damsel in distress?" The guard asked, one hand loosely fastened on the reigns to his horse while the other was planted firmly on his hip in a fist.

"What-..?" The hunter started, staring perplexed at the bodyguards horse, now having returned and was staring at him with a look that he could have sworn was mockery.

"Old Pepper may be a dimwit, but he is loyal through and through."

As they fastened the girl to Dremund's horse and doubled back the way they had come, wolves howled off in the distance. The occasional shriek of natures' life ending justice echoed in the rising storm the couple found themselves strutting upon.

As the blizzard billowed around the traveling few, the conscious had no reasoning to believe they were followed by unnirnly ones lurking about in the shadows and crevices of Skyrim's unforgiving terrain. While seeking as much shelter as they could, the prying eyes glistened, locked onto the unmoving lump the hunter and his friend picked up.

By the time they reached their destination in Whiterun, the festivities had ceased and only the guards roamed the cobbled streets in the raging storm. Aside from the occasional clatter of an animal scurrying off into the night, there was no other sound save from the wind as they traversed to the Bannered Mare where the light from outside was welcoming and warm. 

It was without greed that Balkir and Dremund paid for a couple rooms for the night. One for the woman and one for them as they'd stay until the storm had passed. Balkir was lost in thought as they left to their room. For once in his life, silent, leaving Dremund to stare around behind his visor. He listened half heartedly to the dying song of the womanly bard below near the fires. He had gotten his wish after all. A belly full of mead, and meat and cheeses freshly prepared from the very venison that Balkir sold to Hulda earlier that night. A room with a warm bed sheltered from the blizzard that still raged on. And yet, he couldn't place why he had such an uneasy feeling as sleep finally took him over.


End file.
